


The Only True Reader

by enigmaticblue



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Cop Blair Sandburg, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28483095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: What happens when a Sentinel can’t hear?
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Kudos: 49
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 11





	The Only True Reader

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo prompt "loss of hearing"

_“The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader.”_ ~ Robert Frost

Blair crouches in the alley behind a dumpster waiting for Jim’s signal to proceed. He’d used his nose to track the shipment of marijuana from the docks to their current location. Now, they’re waiting for confirmation that they can go inside.

“Sandburg, get the fuck out of here!” Jim orders harshly over the radio.

Blair would have argued with him at one point, but he and Jim have been partners for two years now, and there’s an urgency in Jim’s tone that has him moving before he can even formulate a question.

“Where are you?” Blair demands, but he doesn’t get a response. He makes it back to Jim’s truck, parked half a block away, when he’s thrown forward by a concussive blast. He feels it before he hears it, but the roar that follows leaves his ears ringing.

Blair shakes his head and clicks the radio again. “Jim! Jim, where are you? What happened?”

There’s still no answer, and Blair pulls out his cell phone and calls in to dispatch. “This is Detective Blair Sandburg, badge number 3577. I need backup units and medical at the warehouse on the corner of 28th and West Plymouth. I have an explosion, possibly involving an officer.”

“Medical and additional units are on their way, Detective,” the dispatcher replies. “Which officer do you think might be involved?”

“I can’t raise my partner, Detective Ellison, on the radio, and he was the one who ordered me to get away from the warehouse just before the explosion,” Blair replies, trying to keep the worry out of his voice, to speak dispassionately. “I need to go look for him.”

“Wait for backup,” the dispatcher replies. “ETA three minutes.”

Blair shifts impatiently, but he knows the dispatcher is correct. He has no idea what the situation is, and he would be walking in blind.

He hears police and ambulance sirens a few seconds later, and shortly after that he sees Jim stumbling away from the smoking wreck of the warehouse.

“Jim!” Blair calls out, but Jim doesn’t seem to hear him, shaking his head with one hand against his ear.

Blair jogs up to him. “Jim, you okay?”

There are deep lines of pain around Jim’s eyes and mouth. He shakes his head. “It’s no good, Blair. I can’t hear you.”

Blair frowns. “What do you mean you can’t hear?”

Jim points to his ear with an exasperated expression. “Are you deaf, too, Darwin?”

He knows that Jim tends to get tetchy when he’s in pain, so Blair ignores the tone and focuses on the problem. “Come sit,” he says, knowing that Jim can’t hear him, but grabbing his elbow and pulling him towards the back of the truck.

He lowers the tailgate and nudges Jim until he sits, and Jim presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Wasn’t just weed,” Jim says without prompting. “There was a meth lab in there, too.”

Blair knows that meth labs have plenty of volatile chemicals, and meth dealers aren’t generally the most reliable sorts. Cascade has been having a spike of meth cases in recent months, so Blair isn’t surprised that they stumbled on a meth operation.

The explosion is another matter, and Blair is a little worried. They still don’t know exactly what causes enhanced senses, although multiple doctors have indicated that the sense organs themselves are normal.

An explosion probably wouldn’t have damaged that part of Jim’s brain, but it might have sent his sense of hearing into overdrive. In which case, his hearing may return to normal with a little time.

Or not. Blair is flying blind here.

Since Jim can’t hear him, Blair clasps his shoulder and squeezes. Jim glances up and manages a smile. “At least I didn’t actually get blown up.”

Blair pats him on the shoulder and listens to the sound of approaching sirens. He motions off in the distance and waits until Jim focuses on him before he points.

Jim nods to show that he understands, and Blair goes to meet the approaching backup and the ambulance. He directs the uniformed officers to secure the scene, and directs the EMTs to check Jim out.

“Are you okay, sir?” one of the paramedics asks.

Blair nods. “Yeah, man, I’m fine. I was well away from the explosion. My partner is having a hard time hearing, though.”

“Not uncommon when you’re close to that size of explosion, and it usually resolves on its own without intervention,” the EMT says.

Blair really hopes that’s the case, but things are rarely so smooth for Jim.

Simon shows up at the scene while the paramedics are still working on Jim. “Sandburg!” he shouts. “Get over here!”

Jim doesn’t even react, and Blair grimaces. He’s pretty sure the whole city heard Simon’s bellow.

“What’s wrong with Jim?” Simon asks immediately.

Blair shakes his head. “He was closer to the explosion than I was. He can’t hear.”

“Is it permanent?” Simon demands.

Blair shrugs. “Hell if I know, Simon. The EMT said it wasn’t unusual, and it would probably resolve on its own.”

“Get him seen to,” Simon orders. “Don’t accept no for an answer. I’ll take over the scene. And I want frequent updates!”

“You got it, Simon,” Blair agrees. He jogs back over to the ambulance, where Jim is arguing with the paramedic.

“I don’t need to go to the hospital!” Jim protests loudly.

Blair wades in, putting his hands on Jim’s shoulders. “You’re going to the hospital, Jim. Simon’s orders.”

Jim is a quick study, and Blair can see that he’s focused on his lips. “Blair…”

“I’ll drive the truck,” Blair continues. “And meet you there. Where are you taking him?”

“Good Sam,” the EMT replies. “It’s the closest.”

Apparently, Jim understands enough, because he subsides and allows the EMTs to load him in the ambulance.

Blair has his own set of keys to the truck, and he drives to Good Samaritan Hospital, which Blair happens to be very familiar with. He’s not sure how often he’s been to this hospital to interview a victim, or for Jim or himself, but it’s often enough that he doesn’t have to think about the drive.

He parks in the attached garage and makes his way to the ER, heading right for the reception desk. Blair flashes his badge and a friendly smile. “Sorry to bother you, but my partner was just brought in. Detective Ellison? Warehouse explosion?”

The nurse nods. “Exam room three.”

“Thanks!” Blair says brightly and heads in the direction that she points.

He finds Jim easily enough. His partner is sitting on an exam table, his expression tense. Blair keeps a notepad on him for work, and he quickly scrawls, “Where’s the doctor?”

Jim makes a face. “Came and went. I think he said something about a CAT scan.”

“Hearing?” Blair writes.

Jim shakes his head. “Not yet.”

They don’t talk much, and Blair stays where he is when the take Jim back for his CAT scan. He can tell that the doctor is as frustrated as Jim is when they get back to the room. “Talk to him,” Jim says, waving at Blair.

The doctor frowns. “Detective Ellison—“

Jim physically turns away, and Blair knows the signs of Jim shutting down. “I’m his partner, but I’m also his roommate,” Blair says, directing the doctor’s attention towards himself. “I can fill him in later.”

The doctor sighs. “I’m Dr. Fuller.”

“Detective Blair Sandburg,” he replies. “Sorry if Jim gave you any trouble.”

Dr. Fuller shakes his head. “I realize that this is a frustrating time. As I was trying to tell Detective Ellison, his tests are normal. He has a mild concussion, and the ear structure is intact. I have no doubt that his hearing will return in time. Loud explosions of the sort he was exposed to can cause some temporary hearing loss.”

Not that the doctor knows anything about Jim’s senses, which could complicate things. “Got it. Any time frame?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” Dr. Fuller admits. “I’m a little surprised that it hasn’t started coming back already. It could be a few hours, or a few days, but there’s nothing physically wrong with him other than the concussion.”

“He’ll probably need a doctor’s note for work,” Blair replies. “Then can I take him home?”

“I recommend following up with an audiologist if his hearing doesn’t return in the next few days,” Dr. Fuller says. “But sure, you can take him home. I’ll write him a prescription for some pain killers, too. Nothing too drastic, just some prescription-strength ibuprofen.”

Blair nods. “I can probably get him to take that.”

“Good luck, Detective Sandburg,” Dr. Fuller says dubiously.

“Right,” Blair mutters. “Here we go.”

He touches Jim’s shoulder gently and jerks his head. They’ve perfected their non-verbal communication over the years, and Jim at least trusts him.

Jim is a silent, glowering presence as Blair gets his prescription filled and drives them back to their apartment. As soon as Jim enters, he heads straight for the loft, and Blair sighs.

He calls Simon first thing. “It’s Blair,” he says when Rhonda transfers him. “There’s nothing physically wrong with Jim, but the doctor can’t give a timeline as to when his hearing will return.”

Simon snorts. “Have the doctors ever been able to give a real answer where Jim is concerned?”

“Almost never,” Blair replies. “I have the doctor’s note, because he’s got a mild concussion.”

“Take the rest of the week,” Simon orders. “Jim needs looking after.”

Blair can’t argue with that. “Thank you, sir.”

“Just make sure that big lug gets better,” Simon orders and then hangs up.

Blair sighs. “Right, well, this is going to be fun.”

The problem isn’t that Jim is grumpy, although he definitely is. The problem is that Jim withdraws completely.

Blair makes dinner for them that night, and goes up to the loft with a note to say that it was ready.

“Not hungry, Sandburg,” Jim mutters and turns on his side, away from Blair.

Blair grabbed his shoulder only to have Jim shrug him off. “Leave me alone.”

There’s no getting through to Jim when he’s like this, especially since Blair can’t even talk _at_ him until Jim has to get out of his funk out of sheer self-defense. Blair _relies_ on his ability to talk Jim into and out of things, and now that tool does him no good.

Then again, Jim had a very trying day, and if he doesn’t want to deal with the world right now, Blair isn’t going to push him.

So, Blair eats dinner, and puts the leftovers in the fridge, grabbing a beer. He turns on the television, finds a ball game, and then tips his head back against the couch. The events of the day flash across his mind, and Blair relives the sick feeling he had when he first thought that Jim had been caught up in the explosion.

He tries to breathe through it, knowing that if Jim had his hearing, he’d be down here demanding to know what’s wrong, since Blair’s heart is racing.

It’s another reminder that things _aren’t_ normal.

The phone rings, and Blair levers himself up from the couch to grab the receiver. “Sandburg.”

“It’s Simon,” comes the reply. “The fire department released the scene, and there were at least four dead.”

Blair grimaces. “At least four?”

“There were pieces,” Simon says shortly. “We would probably need DNA on all of them in order to sort them out.”

“Jim was lucky,” Blair comments.

“Jim was incredibly lucky,” Simon says. “Can you get him here tomorrow to give his statement?”

Blair winces. “Yeah, I’ll get him there.”

“How is he?”

“He’s not talking right now,” Blair replies. “He’s probably going to be a pain in the ass tomorrow.”

“I hope his hearing is back by then,” Simon replies.

“So do I,” Blair replies, although he doesn’t feel a lot of hope. Jim never responds the way they anticipate, and he thinks it’s probably going to take a little longer than that.

“Just get him here,” Simon orders. “If necessary, I’ll take care of the rest.”

It’s nice to have the backup, that’s for sure.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Simon,” Blair says. “Thanks for the update.”

Now, he just needed to get Jim into the station the next day.

~~~~~

There had certainly been times in Jim’s life when his hearing had been out of control, and he’d wished for silence. When Jim had been hearing things from so far away, and unable to shut out the sounds that were driving him crazy. There had even been times when Jim had wanted Blair to shut up.

By the time the doctor is trying to explain his findings, Jim regrets ever making that wish.

He can’t hear anything other than the ringing in his ears, and reading lips isn’t as easy as TV or the movies make it look.

Dr. Fuller tries to explain what Jim can expect, but it’s slow going, and Jim quickly grows frustrated. He just doesn’t want to deal with it, and he turns it over to Blair, knowing that Blair will take care of things.

His head aches abominably, and he’s glad that Blair is the one driving them back to the loft. He goes straight upstairs to bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep it off. Jim shrugs Blair off when he tries to get Jim to come down for dinner.

He feels a little bad about it, but he doesn’t want to try to talk, or have Blair try to bridge the gap, or get him to communicate somehow.

Jim does manage to sleep that night, although it’s fitful, and he still has a headache the next morning, and his ears are still ringing. And, of course, his hearing is still gone.

Blair has left a note for him, and Jim grabs a shower and starts the coffee as a half-apology for being a dick. He knows he’s going to have to go to the station and give his statement, even if the last thing he wants to do is deal with more people.

He can tell that Blair is trying to communicate with him, but Jim turns away. He doesn’t want to see Blair without also hearing his voice. He misses hearing Blair’s voice.

Jim hadn’t realized how much he grounded his hearing on Blair—on his voice, his heartbeat—and it’s missing.

~~~~~

Blair doesn’t sleep well that night, dreaming about the explosion, and those awful few minutes where he didn’t know what happened to Jim. He gets up at 5, and writes a note for Jim, telling him that Simon needs them to give their statements, and he goes for a run.

He doesn’t _want_ to run, but he knows that doing so will help him shake off some of his anxiety.

When he gets back to the loft, Jim is awake and eating a piece of toast. Blair’s note is on the counter, and he gives Jim a questioning look.

“I read it,” Jim says sourly. “I’ll cooperate.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” Blair says, enunciating clearly to help Jim read his lips, but Jim has already looked away.

Blair sighs. “Today is going to be fun.”

He’s grateful for the shorter hair, since it’s a lot easier to take care of, and when he emerges from the bathroom, Jim is dressed and ready to go, with a travel mug of coffee ready for Blair.

It’s a small sign that Jim is getting back to normal, and Blair nods his thanks. Blair is the one to drive them in to the station, and while he and Jim are comfortable enough to be fine with silence, it’s weird to not even be able _say something_.

Well, he could, but Jim wouldn’t hear him.

He parks, and they head into the station. “Hey, Aaron,” Blair says, immediately trying to distract security from talking to Jim. “How are the kids? Did Neal get into Stanford like he wanted?”

“Early acceptance,” Aaron says proudly. “And a scholarship! He’s still determined to go into computer engineering.”

“That’s great,” Blair replies. “You’ll have to let me know how he does. I’m sure he’ll be great.”

Blair’s gift of gab gets them through security without anybody saying much to Jim, other than hellos, to which Jim offers a curt nod.

He breathes a sigh of relief when they get into the elevatory, and they’re the only ones in there. Jim’s expression is closed off and remote, and Blair wishes he knew how to reach Jim.

They get off on the sixth floor, and Simon meets them. “Let’s use my office. It will be a little more comfortable.”

Blair can see that Jim is watching Simon’s mouth, and he wonders if Jim’s enhanced senses make it easier for him to lip-read. He can feel Jim’s hesitation as Simon leads the way through the bullpen towards his office, but he follows after a moment.

“Sit,” Simon orders once they close the office door behind them, and he waves to the couch.

Jim sits, rubbing the palms of his hands on his jeans. “I still can’t hear anything, Simon.”

Simon doesn’t reply. He just pulls out a tape recorder, hits record, and points at Jim. That gesture causes a faint smile to appear.

“We were sitting on the warehouse, waiting on a warrant,” Jim begins. “I directed Sandburg to cover the back, while I went around to the window to get a better idea of what we would be facing once we were inside.”

Jim’s voice is dry as he recites the facts, and Blair has heard him give a report often enough that he suspects this is at least inside Jim’s comfort zone. “I heard the sounds of an altercation inside, and I smelled some very distinctive chemicals. I’ve been around meth labs before, so I knew they were cooking. I witnessed two men pulling guns, and I realized that the situation was very volatile. I ordered Sandburg away from the building and began to leave the scene. The explosion occurred when I was approximately 25 feet away from the building.”

Simon points to his own ears, and Jim adds, “I haven’t been able to hear since the explosion, although Sandburg says the doctor thought it would be temporary.”

Simon presses stop on the recorder and points at Sandburg. “You’re up next.”

Blair knows that Simon is breaking protocol slightly, since they should have been interviewed immediately after the explosion, and separately, but Simon is also used to the strange ways of a Sentinel by now. 

“Detective Ellison and I were following up on a lead about a large shipment of marijuana,” Blair begins. He keeps his own report spare as well, knowing that less is more. His own statement is very short, focused on how they received the tip, taking a position at the back of the warehouse, and having Jim order him away from the warehouse.

Blair hadn’t seen anything else, so he can’t elaborate much on Jim’s statement.

“All right,” Simon says when Blair has finished. “Preliminary forensics backs up your statements, and those killed had rap sheets longer than my arm.”

Blair knows that the sentiment is that no one is going to miss those killed in the explosion, but that makes him shift uncomfortably. He understands, but he also knows that there probably _are_ people who will miss them, and mourn their passing.

On the other hand, he’s grateful that there’s nothing about the situation that would get Internal Affairs involved.

“Take the next two days,” Simon orders. “If Jim’s hearing still hasn’t returned by then, we’ll have to figure out a cover story.”

Blair isn’t sure how much of that Jim understood, but he glances at the door. “I don’t really want to have to deal with the peanut gallery.”

Simon nods. “Sandburg, go be a distraction. I’ll give Jim a ride home.”

If there’s anything that Blair knows how to do, and how to do well, it’s to be a distraction. He strides out into the bullpen with forced cheer. “Hey, guys! How’s it going?”

Joel is present, as are Rafe and H. Megan had returned to Australia a few months prior, and Joel’s new partner is a young Latina, Lena Flores. Lena had come to them from Vice, and while Blair doesn’t know her well, she seems nice, and has a good reputation around the station.

“Hey, Sandburg, how’s Jim?” Joel asks.

“Still having some pretty serious ringing in his ears,” Blair says, playing it off as no big deal. “Simon gave us a couple of days off to get that under control.”

“You guys are lucky you weren’t hurt,” H says. “I heard there were at least four bodies.”

Blair grimaces. “It was a bad deal. I thought that Jim had been caught up in it for a few minutes when I couldn’t raise him on the radio. But hey, what about that triple homicide? Who pulled that?”

He keeps their attention focused on him by asking a lot of questions, although he tracks Jim and Simon’s movements, out of the office, around the perimeter of the room, and out the door. Blair lets the conversation wrap up naturally.

“See you guys in a few days,” Blair says with a wave. He stops by the grocery store on the way home, knowing that it’s Jim’s week to shop, and also that he’s not going to want to.

It’s a rare late-autumn day that’s both warm and sunny, and Blair isn’t too surprised when he gets home and sees Jim out on the balcony drinking a cup of coffee.

Blair isn’t expecting help, but Jim comes in and begins putting groceries away. He shoots Jim a questioning look, and Jim shrugs. “Felt the vibrations. And before you ask, no, it’s not any better.”

Blair is at a loss for what to say, or how to respond.

“Thanks for doing the shopping,” Jim says. “I know it was my week.”

Blair bumps Jim’s shoulder in lieu of a verbal reply.

Jim gives him a look. “For what it’s worth, I really miss hearing your voice.”

Blair glances down, feeling the heat in his face, undone by Jim’s quiet observation.

Jim pats him on the shoulder, and then finishes putting the groceries away.

~~~~~

Jim should have known that Simon and Blair would have his back. Simon breaks protocol by being the one to take their statements in his office, and not separating them. Really, they probably should have given their statements last night, but Simon has been known to bend the rules on occasion.

Simon knows him well enough to send Blair out to provide a distraction with the other detectives, and then he offers Jim a ride home.

Jim is grateful when Simon doesn’t even try to talk to him. He’s also relieved to have gotten out of the station without having to deal with anybody else.

He makes another pot of coffee and goes out on the balcony. Jim misses the sounds of the city, even though it can be overwhelming at times.

Jim dials up his other senses to try to compensate for his hearing, and he feels the vibration of the door opening, and Blair’s footsteps. Jim goes back into the loft and sees that Blair has done the grocery shopping, even though it was Jim’s week for that.

Jim feels a quiet gratitude for Blair, and his partnership. And his patience. Jim wants to offer him something, especially since Blair seems to have the silent communication thing down pat.

“Thanks for doing the shopping,” Jim says. “I know it was my week.”

Blair bumps Jim’s shoulder in lieu of a verbal reply.

Jim gives him a look. “For what it’s worth, I really miss hearing your voice.”

He sees the rising blush on Blair’s face, and he smirks. Jim has known about Blair’s crush on him for a while now, even though he hasn’t done anything about it yet.

A lot of his hesitance has to do with how much he appreciates their partnership for what it is. They’ve been through hell together, they live together, they work together, and to add another element could throw everything off.

On the other hand, Jim really couldn’t ask for a better partner, and not being able to hear Blair’s voice or his heartbeat, not being able to fully ground himself on Blair—it feels like he’s missing a limb.

That night, they watch a game with the closed captions, and Jim dials up his other senses to get as much of Blair as he can, to try to make up for the lack of hearing.

He doesn’t really want to go to bed, or rather he wishes he could stay closer to Blair so that not being able to hear Blair wasn’t so obvious.

So, when he wakes up the next morning and he still can’t hear, Jim is more than a little grumpy, and not feeling terribly cooperative when he sees Blair’s note.

He doesn’t think meditation is going to help, because he’s always relied on Blair’s voice to get him into a meditative state.

But Blair has never hesitated to go toe-to-toe with him, and Jim usually gives in eventually.

Even if it’s with ill grace, this time is no different.

~~~~~

The next day, Jim’s hearing still isn’t any better, and Blair feels a little bit desperate. They’d watched a game with the closed captions on last night, but Blair wants his roommate back, and Jim switches from being closed off and remote, and obviously upset and desperate.

Blair corners him after lunch with a note that says, “Meditation.”

Jim glares at him. Blair glares back.

“It’s physical,” Jim says loudly. “It’s nothing that meditation is going to cure.”

“Or maybe it is,” Blair says, enunciating every word clearly while holding up the note, to let Jim know he’s not backing down.

Blair takes a second to scribble down a second note. “Imagine my voice.”

Jim rolls his eyes.

Blair shakes the paper for emphasis.

“Fine,” Jim snarls. “I’ll try.”

That’s actually better than Blair is expecting, although he underestimated just how much Jim relied on him to talk him into a meditative trance.

“This isn’t working!” Jim snaps. “I can’t do this alone.”

Blair has a flash of inspiration, and he grabs Jim’s hand and presses Jim’s fingers against his wrist.

Jim gets with the program immediately. “Yeah, okay, I get it, Chief.”

Jim’s big hand settles around Blair’s wrist, his index finger and thumb finding Blair’s pulse point. “It’s a little fast.”

Blair shrugs, unable to articulate his worry, and then he closes his eyes and breathes deeply, willing his heart rate to go down, for his pulse to slow, and for Jim to follow.

He breathes in and out slowly, and Jim puts his spare hand on Blair’s chest.

Blair keeps his breaths deep and even, rhythmic, and he sees Jim’s eyes drift shut as he focuses.He has no idea how much time passes like that, but Blair has dropped into his own meditative trance.

And then Jim makes a sound, almost a gasp, and he says, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“So, you’re back,” Blair says cheerfully.

“I just wanted to hear your heartbeat,” Jim admits. “I wanted to hear your _voice_ again.”

Blair blinks. “I’m not really sure how to take that.”

Jim tightens his grip around Blair’s wrist. “I’m really glad to hear your voice.”

“Oh,” Blair says quietly, and sees something in Jim’s eyes that has glimmered before but has now sprung to full flame. “Jim?”

And Jim moves his hand from Blair’s chest to his face, cupping his cheek. “Thank you.”

Jim leans a little closer and Blair meets him halfway, and Blair isn’t sure why Jim has decided to make his move now, but he’s _so_ down.

Jim’s mouth is warm and inviting, and Blair relaxes into it.

Because this kiss is everything he’s wanted in a long time, and now he has it.

Now, he has everything.


End file.
